Victim
by HummelGleek
Summary: Since he was young Kurt Hummel had always wanted to be a model, it was a matter of time till he'd meet someone that found him presentable enough to sponsor. Not only did that person come straight to him he also offered work right away; Kurt had always put his trust in others , after all, people are innately good right? He soon finds out everything he thought was wrong. WARN: RAPE
1. Prologue

**OMG guys I have not put up a story in a year or so, I am soooo sorry. Someone really close to me died...my inspiration, and I felt I couldn't write anymore, but I've gotten the gumption back. I will continue my older ones, though those are terrible omg whoever reads those are saints. haha**

**Well here is my newest torturing of Kurt Hummel. I hope you all like it; This is just a prologue just so I can see how people take it, I already have a least 6 more chapters ready but I will not upload until I see people are receiving it well.**

**Please let me know if this is something you all liked reading and would like to see continued. And AGAIN I am sorry for my absence, I hope to make a full comeback!**

**I don't own Glee xx **

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_He should have known, the moment he entered the hotel, he should have abided to the dull ache in the pit of his stomach before waving off danger as if he were untouchable_.

"_Kurt?_"

The inquisitive voice of the man he had met in the coffee shop shattered the silence within the room. Kurt smiled timidly, smoothed his shirt and nodded. "Ye-…yeah" he stammered, cursing himself for the apprehension. _This _was his future.

He looked at the small camcorder being shoved in his face with puzzled glance. "For audition" he grinned, as if reading Kurt's thoughts. "So if you could just sit right here, I have some questions to go over" he said it so professionally the young boy scoffed within himself thinking about what his father had said about it being a scam. He sat on the edge of the bed pulling his legs together and placing his hands in his lap.

_Where are you from again?_

"Ohio"

_Have you ever done this before?_

He shook his head.

Kurt cleared his throat as the man pointed the camera straight at him, subtly inching closer, the distance between them diminishing. "Why don't you tell _us_ your name" he said.

Who is he referring to as us? He forced his best smile, "K-Kurt".

He lowered his camera; the smile arched on his lips made his eyes dance with a hint of amusement. "Are you nervous?"

Kurt laughed a little and bowed his head. "Is it _that_ obvious?" he looked back up, the man's eyes softened to a strange look of comfort, moving closer, he pointed to a pin sticking from Kurt's shirt. "Wanna tell me about that?" He asked, Kurt guessed, in some weird attempt at calming the mood.

Kurt smiled and touched the small butterfly pin, "it was my mother's." He allowed the memory of that moment her frail hand had set it in his to try and advert himself from the tense situation before him.

"It's very beautiful" he said and leaned towards him, "You're very beautiful."

Kurt's smile faded uneasily, nodding, "thank you" He pulled it back quickly, masking whatever it was inside of him that was trying to create doubt.

"You don't _have_ to be nervous" he chuckled, as if he couldn't understand why on earth anyone would be edgy in this situation.

The young boy forced a relaxed look, nodding. The older man took that moment to place his hand on Kurt's face gently. "Just relax", His fingertips moved slowly, as if he were inspecting rare merchandise, "How long have you wanted to model?"

"Since I was young" Kurt replied glancing nervously at the door, the uneasiness crushing his chest like a thousand ton weight. "Well you're very pretty" his finger traces Kurt's cheekbone softly "_very pretty._" The man's eyes are fixed hungrily on him, the gaze of a predator looking at easy prey. Kurt feels his hand suddenly caress the side of his hip, "I should go" he pushed his hand, trying to get up, but he's quickly pulled back down.

"We're not done yet."

The camera was shoved back in Kurt's frowning face. "Please sir-" Kurt started as his legs were being pulled at, attempting to push him back onto the bed. "What are you doing, _stop_" he asked sharply. "I said stop" Kurt mustered a quivering voice and pushed his chest. The man just hissed, flinging his hands away.

Kurt began struggling in a blind panic, swinging instinctively to get this man's weight off of him; his efforts were unsuccessful, and suddenly his captor pulled back and smacked him with such a force he fell back holding his face, blood trickled down from his nose.

"We're not done" he growled.

His eyes turned a menacing dark, twinkling with a pleasure that the young boy had never seen before; as if Kurt's fear was the most joyous thing he'd ever experienced before.

A strangled sob fell from his lips as he tried to get up again, ignoring the pain and fear that enveloped his entirety, pushing his captors face to deter him, but it was futile, he was grabbed and thrown back onto the bed violently.

The man worked on top of him, smirking at the terrified noise that escapes the young boy's throat; he holds his chin, placing his face close and running his tongue across Kurt's tear marked cheek, "_Shh_, it's okay" he whispers as one would to a frightened child "I'm going to make you famous."

Placing his hands on Kurt's collar, he begins tearing at it, violently shaking him as he ripped it off. Kurt's words a muddled mess, imperceptible, masked by his cries.

His captor is able to tear his shirt off and throw it aside swiftly, gazing down at his prize, possibly speculating how old the boy really was; he looked no more than fifteen.

In midst of his delay

Kurt takes the chance and again tries to thrust his assailant off but he's quick and retaliates with a fist straight into the side of Kurt's head, he lay for a moment dizzy and disoriented a ringing developing in his ears. He clutches his captors arm, digging his nails into his flesh as he violently pulled at the belt holding his jeans.

Kurt's vain attempts are all smacked away, his assailant pressing his weight more on the smaller one; When he's completely undressed the boy he yanks out a blade, flashing it in front of Kurt to shut him up, he brings it close to his prey, relishing the whimper that fills the room; placing the blunt side of the blade to his quivering lips, as if to let him fully comprehend the horror of the situation. Keeping a light grip, as if to not –_yet_— cut the boy, he takes his free hand and runs his hands through Kurt's hair, intertwining his fingers, a small smile curving his lips. He brings the blade up and snags a few strands of Kurt's hair, bringing it close to his nose, taking a breath, as if his fear were alcohol and it intoxicated him.

He pocketed the hair and placed his hands on the side of Kurt's body, lowering his face close to the boy's stomach, taking a deep breath traveling up his body, hovering right above Kurt's lips. "You're going to be famous." Kurt manages to open his mouth, shaking his head fearfully staring into his amber eyes, "No."

The man settles onto him more, once again intertwining his fingers through the boy's hair, but this time he gripped it tighter and pulled Kurt's head to the side, closing his eyes and pressing his lips to his prey's exposed neck, kissing feverishly. The boy moans in fear, shaking his head. "_Please_ don't..."

He begins to work his own jeans off. Kurt lets out a small moan of pain as teeth sink into the soft flesh of his throat; he ceases in movement, his body paralyzed by shock and agony.

Suddenly his legs are being pushed at, in an attempt to get the boys knees up so he could settle in between; pushing his mouth on Kurt's to silence him as he uses his hand to push on his inner thighs. He struggles against the harsh grip, his groans muffled and distorted.

"_You're going to be famous Kurt_"

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**Well let me know if you'd all like to see a continuation, if so brace yourself, its long. **


	2. The Model

**Oh wow its getting intense. The rating will go up because theme/language/etc. I hope you all like it thus far I'm excited to share more with you all. Let me know if this is something you all like.**

**Again warning as this can possibly be a trigger or upset someone; it deals with sexual themes and rape. Alright. Enjoy. I don't own Glee xx**

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Kurt felt a searing pain tear through his body, the cry that stumbles from his lips is like that of a wounded soldier desperately trying to limp from the battlefield. He clutches the sheets underneath him as his aggressor viciously strikes his forehead with the blunt side of a blade.

Never had he felt a pain like this. _Never_.

Crushing his petite body and panting over Kurt's lips, he thrusts mercilessly, the bed shaking at the mere vigor of the assaults; he wanted to hear his prey cry.

Kurt gapes up at the ceiling, tears obscuring his vision and sobs plaguing his body, he tried to think of something, anything.

_He and Blaine singing together…their favorite songs they usually sing in the car, Blaine would grab his hand and they would belt out the chorus, they didn't care who heard._

What would Blaine think of him now?

_He and Rachel were due for another diva-off soon definitely…he imagined with all his might, he'll find a good song, one that will blow her socks off._

Would he even be able to sing anymore?

The man aggressively grabs Kurt's chin so they're face to face, forcing him to look into his icy gaze and break what little piece of amity he could conjure. Kurt moans as another vicious tremor frames his body.

Lips skim down, nudging at Kurt's collarbone tenderly; his warm fingertips traced the surface of his skin, continuing over places that had been untouched until now. Kurt gasped for a reasonable breath, his lungs seeming to refuse any oxygen he tried frantically to collect.

The boy felt the pain numb, almost as if blood had become a natural lubricant for his captor's assault. He hastens his thrusts, panting his warm breath on Kurt's lips as his fingers continued to flint over exposed flesh. The man's body quakes and he lets out a loud moan, wrapping his strong hands around Kurt's throat, squeezing tightly as he climaxes; the younger struggled for a breath clawing at his hands in a vain effort to stop him.

When he finishes his orgasm and slows, freeing his grip, Kurt takes the opportunity, to knee his lower stomach; the man above him lets out a yelp and releases.

Kurt acted fast, pushing him in his daze, turning and tumbling to the ground face first, coughing desperately and bleeding profusely.

His assailant is yelling, but Kurt has the entire ocean in his ears, hearing nothing but the cascading of waves. He reaches his arms out to grab the knife that has fallen from grips and landed near the wall, but as his fingertips brush the blade his breath is knocked as the man's foot hurls into his side and Kurt is straddled from behind.

He tries to push the man off of his back but he uses his hand to shove Kurt's head into the carpet; the boy stared at the wall, his vision blurred by tears and reduced to sobs. He cannot plead anymore. Just cry loudly.

Suddenly the man pulls back and throws a punch at Kurt's back. He cries out. _Another punch. Another_. He continues to throw hits to Kurt's back until he can't move. _Can't breathe_. Kurt lay panting, wheezing and paralyzed.

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Burt hated arguing with his son but dammit he saw too much good in everyone; like he believed there was no such thing as evil…

He had been so excited, running in from the mall, bellowing about some model executive who wanted to interview him.

_He met him in a fucking food court for godsakes..._

Of course Burt gave him a strict no; but if there was one thing Kurt hated the most, it was not getting what he wanted.

Needless to say he threw the age card out, "_I'm seventeen, dad_!" And "_I'm not a girl you know_". But he soon realized his fits were vain against his strong headed father and finally broke down with an exasperated sigh, telling Burt how he was killing his career and stomped to his room.

Burt may have reconsidered if he'd met the guy at least, but there were too many things on TV that frightened him, he couldn't lose Kurt. _Ever_.

Burt walked to the kitchen hoping he'd catch Kurt; he wanted to apologize, invite him out to dinner or something. He hated when Kurt was angry with him. His eyes fell on the tall chestnut haired boy munching down on a sandwich, "where's your brother?" Burt didn't even think twice anymore when saying that, Finn and Carole had been here so long.

"Um..." He carefully pulled the crust from his bread and shook his head, "I dunno, I went to ask for his math homework earlier and he didn't answer his door, I thought maybe he went out with Blaine." Burt raised an eyebrow, "did you see him leave with Blaine?" He took a bite and shook his head.

Burt walked down to his sons room, knocking. Hopefully he wasn't still sulking in bed; Kurt had a tendency to do that...

_Just like Elizabeth._

Burt smiled, thinking of how alike those two are.

He shakes his head, "_Come on_ Kurt don't be mad." Trying the door handle, giving the door a quick shove and walking in. It's terribly quiet and worst of all empty. "Kurt?" He says, cutting the silence. He's not here.

Burt walks over to his son's bed, eyeing a piece of paper with Kurt's fancy scribbling on it:

_Lakeview hotel 4pm.  
_  
Next to it was a small business card:

**Andrew Jones  
Entertainment model, professional photographer.**

513-346-3763

Burt felt anger rapidly fester within him; _Kurt had deliberately ignored him..._

He pulled his cellphone out, dialing Kurt's number, and waiting_. No answer_. Burt refrained from leaving a threatening message; he wanted to murder Kurt _in person_.

He treads from his sons room back to Finn, "Call Kurt, see if he answers" Finn gazes at him perplexed but does so, then looks at him inanely, "it says the number can't be reached" Burt looks at him, "what?" Finn hands him the phone. He can hear the voice of the operator. "But I just got his voicemail..."

He dialed again, hearing the operator. Quickly he dialed 411 to find the number of the hotel, pacing as they transferred him.

"Lakeview-" Burt cuts the receptionist off, "my son, did you see him?" Burt realizes how vague that request it, "He-he's about medium height, skinny, brown hair, I-I think he had a scarf on" the lady stops him, "I cannot give out information about people here sir, I'm sorry". Burt groans, "no you don't understand, I think he's in trouble, he met this person- _fuck it_" Burt hung up the phone and grabbed his keys. He was going to give Kurt a piece of his mind. He cannot just outright defy him like that!

He allows Finn to ride along; as he pulled into the driveway he motioned at Finn to stay and ran inside, it's very busy, people scattered here and there, the smell of Starbucks wafts through. He doesn't see Kurt. He walked quickly to the receptionist who gave him a forced smile, "Hello sir can I interes-" she starts but Burt lays his palms flat on the linoleum and looks to her.

"_My son_. Brown hair, came here around four, have you seen him?" She shook her head, "No I'm sorry I cannot give out information" Burt exhales frustrated, "_Look_ lady my son might potentially-" he is cut off by a police officer stepping up next to him. "Noise complaint ma'am?" She nods. "Room 288, to a Jones"

"Jones..." Burt says and looks at both of them. "My son...I think my son is with him"

_Room 288, fine he'll go himself…_

Burt bolted upstairs hearing the officer behind him, trying to stop him. He finds the door after a minute of searching, turning the knob, "Kurt" he yells angrily thinking; _he's going to be grounded till I die...  
_  
The door buzzes, he cannot get in without a key.

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**Oh no! Review! **


	3. Waking up

**I hope you all are enjoying it. This one might be a little rusty, I didn't have time to proof-read so please disregard any errors until I can update it **

**Don't own Glee xx **

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Burt is pushed aside by the officer as he slid the key the lady at the desk must have given him and grabbed the handle. Burt swiftly elbows the cop and rushes in; although the room was hauntingly silent, the scene spoke for itself. Bed sheets crumpled up, tossed and stained red. The smell of blood and struggle wafted throughout the room and tainted everything; Burt felt his throat close. "Kurt?" He squeaked, for fear of an answer and fear of no answer, all anger he'd been harboring for his disobeying son parting and being switched with utter panic.

The officer pulled out his gun, moved Burt aside, and started forward, "Is there anyone here? Police!" Burt grasped his shoulder and croaked, "Where's my son?"

He strode forward between the bed and the wall giving out a small gasp, there's a whimper, and Burt swiftly ran over. He doesn't realize the terrible noise that filled the room fell from his own being.

"_Kurt_?" His voice rose drastically, "Kurt!" He dropped down next to his child on his knees, eyes wide with horror. His son's soft porcelain skin blotched with purple bruises and crimson blood. He cannot make out the features on his swollen face. "Oh god. _Oh god_" he cannot tell if he's yelling or whispering; grabbing Kurt's face gently, "Kurt, wake up" he shook him a tad, holding his breath till he heard a small groan escape the boys throat. His eyes flutter open the best they can, he parts his lips as if to say something, his throat contracting painfully, Burt can only make out the word _'dad'_. "It's me _I'm here_" he took his jacket off and covered Kurt's naked body, enveloping him in his arms.

"_Sir_. Sir. EMT is on their way please try not to touch him" the officer stated, Burt ignored his request, pushing Kurt's bloody bangs from his eyes, feeling his sons small fist wrap around his shirt and face shove into his stomach, as if he would burrow in Burt's chest and never leave. He lets out a choked noise, blood trickling from his lips, gripping his father's shirt so taut his fingers turn white, "I'm sorry. _I'm so sorry_" he whispered. Burt shakes his head, "No it's okay Kurt. Its okay"

"Burt what's go-" the sound of his stepson cut through the room, "Go Finn, go back, _don't_" the officer restricted him from entering anyway. "Burt what is it? What happened?" Kurt began to cry, the sound morosely rugged as he spit more blood. "G-go Finn. Go get your mother, and go to the hospital".

The medics are running in, unfolding the gurney, quickly strapping on gloves. All the commotion frightens the child, Kurt doesn't like it, he looked to his father, "W-what's going on? _What's happening_"

One of the medics kneel down next to the hysteric boy, as Burt tried to calm him. "Kurt, I'm going to need you to calm down okay? So we can help you" he asked gently, looking at the boy. "My name is Mark _okay_? I'm going to get you help" Kurt peered at him then nodded faintly. He carefully puts his hands under the younger one's back to pick him up, but Kurt lets out a terrible grunt and lurched back down, "No _no no_, it hurts" he cried, pressing a hand to his side. The medic pulls the jacket back a bit revealing a deep wound on his side. "We've got a stab wound on the side" he called to his team, pressing his gloved hand to it and attempting to get him up again.

The injured boy screams out in pain, clawing at the medics hands that hold him and are causing him so much pain. "Kurt, _please_." He struggled but finally lay Kurt flat on the med bed, Burt felt tears rip from his eyes when his son screeched in pain at the contact with his lower half. His eyes pull close tightly, blood and saliva slightly dribbling from his lips as he forced out each wheezing breath.

The older man grabs his son's hand and gripped it tightly, he wanted to say something, to make it better, but there was nothing he could say, nothing he could do.

Elizabeth had trusted him with their son and he had _failed_.

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_Have you done this before...?_

_No..._

Kurt felt himself come to, agony engulfing his body, he was _finally_ feeling. He furrowed his brow and grumbled a bit, feeling a foreign object on his face, slowly he lifted his hand to push it, opening his eyes he is assaulted by fluorescent light. He takes a moment to adjust; suddenly taken back to when his father was in the hospital, the overwhelming smell of sanitizer and metal; the scratchy white sheets. But this time the roles were reversed. He peered over, seeing his father talking with Carole. There are other voices in the room also. His fingers brush the thing covering his mouth, supplying oxygen, he pushed it.

The sudden movement jars him and he lets out a groan. The room falls silent and people gather around. He feels immensely uncomfortable. He doesn't _want_ to be watched anymore...

_You'll be a perfect model...everyone will watch you..._

He tried to push it again but his wrist is taken lightly and set back down on his stomach, Kurt looked up into the eyes of his father, there is a pained look in them, a helpless one; the same look he had given Kurt when he told him his mother had died.

Kurt swallowed, his throat is dry and scratchy; he's confused as to why he's here, why everyone looks so distraught. "Kurt, sweetie?" He realized his father had been saying his name for quite some time; he blinks and looked to him. "How are you feeling?" He asks, the question is forced and Kurt laughs bitterly within himself.  
_  
Just look at me..._

His head is radiating a strange pain, he wanted to ask his father why, he parted his lips, but the oxygen mask prevents any communication, he proceeded to try and take it off again, pushing it aside. Even this little task seeks to take a load of energy from him, and he closed his eyes, the mask only half way off. "What..." He rasped out. Kurt's memory returns in little hazy clips.

_The hotel room. Model. The assault._

Burt takes the mask from his face when the doctor says it is okay, Kurt's eyes open wider, looking around; His memory returned just as fast as he had lost it, and it played in the back of his mind like a broken movie reel. He wanted to crawl in a corner and hide; no one should look at him. _Ever._

He swallowed the lump in his throat, coercing himself not to cry, looking at his concerned fathers face, mustering words, "I'm sorry"

_His father had told him not to go in the first place..._

"No _no,_ don't be sorry" his father's voice is terrifyingly sad; he moved closer, taking Kurt's hand, holding the boy close. "Don't be sorry"

Kurt swallowed and nodded, looking away, gritting his teeth together. His head throbbed horribly, every breath painstakingly more awful than the last. His father touched his face, "Hey? Kurt? Can you hear me?" His father must have been talking to him again. "I want to go home" Kurt replied, looking at his apprehensive father. "We can't yet...the doctors, they're going to get you better and then we can"

He talks to him slow, like you would a hyperactive child. Kurt rested back further, keeping his eyes trained on the white walls.

"_Is he okay_?" He heard a familiar voice speak up, and _fuck_ he almost finds it comforting. Kurt turns his head and sees his black headed step brother. Carole peered at Finn, giving him a strict look. "Finn, shush." he looks at her confused; placing his hands in his pocket, the tall awkward boy bowed his head and murmured an apology. His father clutched his hand and spoke up, "are you feeling-"

"I'm _fine_" Kurt quickly interjects. The room goes hushed, of course they all know that's a lie.

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**Not too happy with this chapter it might be updated soon. Please review! **


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